<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Big News? Maybe? by artispain</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24731449">Big News? Maybe?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/artispain/pseuds/artispain'>artispain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Ball</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:47:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,545</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24731449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/artispain/pseuds/artispain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh sheeit. Gotta tell the boi he knocked you up. RIP YOU. Yeah I'm a natural asshole and this definitely translates to reader. Sorry bout that</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cell (Dragon Ball)/Reader, Cell (Dragon Ball)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Big News? Maybe?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You pace nervously across the floor of your bedroom, your hands absently already beginning the instinctive rubbing over your belly. <br/>Cell had noticed. The last time you’d been with him, you’d caught him gazing at your belly after you’d removed your shirt. For much longer than any errant gaze should last. Even from him. He hadn’t commented. But you know you’re starting to show just a little bit more than ‘just gaining a little weight’ would ever warrant. You’ll have to tell him.<br/>HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA TELL HIM????<br/>“Hey boo, sometimes, when you cum in a girl…..” the walls of the empty room ring with your shrill nervous laughter.<br/>“She wants more? YOU always do.” You can HEAR the smirk in his voice.<br/>You squeak and whirl. Of course! Of course the asshole shows up when you could have spilled the beans just from nervously practicing to what you’d thought was your empty home. <br/>“You know, for a guy that squeaks when he walks you sure got in here friggin QUIET.” You’re spluttering and blushing. Here, in this setting, he looks even larger and more like some gorgeous pipe dream than an actual living being. <br/>Cell is still smirking as he rotates his leg slowly, grinding the toe of his foot across your floor. “Carpet.”<br/>Okay. Now’s the time. Just get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid. You’re babbling inside your own mind. What if he’s angry??? He’s never harmed you in any way that didn’t actually feel GOOD. <br/>He’s standing there, just outside your bedroom doorframe. The tops of his crests are not visible. He’ll have to duck to get in. You giggle again. The nervous sound is shrill and harsh. <br/>The smirk fades and his face becomes blank. <br/>“I’d say leaving your door unlocked is stupid. But then again, trespassing into your home, in particular, would be a far more stupid decision for anyone to make.” <br/>Your mind instantly jumps to the idea of some poor sod walking into your home without your permission and him finding out about it. You suddenly feel like pacing is too much effort.<br/>Cell enters your room then, ducking as expected. The movement is far more graceful than you expected. But, then again, his size and bulk never seems to have an effect on how smoothly and efficiently he can move. You also are well aware that his size doesn’t effect his speed whatsoever as well. The image this particular thought brings to mind, makes your naked toes curl into the carpet. <br/>“I suppose I should just be grateful you don’t smash thru my wall like the fucking koolaid man.” You're babbling now.<br/>He chuckles at this. “Yes. You should be. Very grateful.” <br/>His face slackens again as he rotates his head, slowly assessing your room. You blush as you realize you’ve fucked this guy more times than you can count. Are literally carrying his child. And yet, he’s never been inside your home before. <br/>Cell is beautiful. No doubt about it. But something about the way he observes things, the inhuman twitching of his pupils as they rapidly settle upon and leave each object, as if he’s a living computer, identifying and cataloging each subject. It gives him a loftier, more efficient sort of beauty. You’d love to tell him this. But he’d like that too much.<br/>“Your color scheme….”<br/>“What, purple? I don’t know I just….”<br/>“Lilac.” He cuts you off.<br/>“…. I just like lilac…….. Asshole.” <br/>He turns back to you, crossing his arms and sneering at you. “I hope that you eventually begin to appreciate just how much I allow you to get away with, with that smart mouth of yours.” <br/>Your retort dies before you can utter it. He’s absolutely right. Cell has killed more people than you can even understand. Yet allows some extraordinarily scathing speech and behaviors from yourself roll off his pretty backside like water. No matter what you say, he always shrugs it off or laughs it away. Especially recently. Somehow this makes what you have to tell him seem even MORE difficult. <br/>What if he finally snaps and lashes out? Or worse. You feel a lump form in your throat. What if he doesn’t even CARE? You sit on the edge of your bed, suddenly exhausted and empty feeling. And afraid. “Cell?”<br/>He’s still glaring at you. “Yes, human?” <br/>Shit. He only calls you ‘human’ now when he’s irritated with you. Its actually how you know to stop your crap. <br/>“I need to tell you something. Its important. Like REALLY important.” <br/>He huffs. But his tone is oddly patient. “Go on then. I’m listening.” <br/>You squeeze your eyes closed and wait for oblivion. “I’m pregnant.”<br/>“I know.”<br/>Your eyes snap open and you stare at him dumbly. His face is smooth and unreadable.<br/>“Its yours.” You feel stupid suddenly. <br/>He face stretches into the most incredulous and, quiet frankly, HUMAN expression you’ve ever seen on his face. The he tilts his head and laughs. Hard. As if he’s heard the grandest joke one can ever hear. <br/>You’ve heard him chuckle. A lot. And you’ve heard him laugh a bit too. But never such a boisterous laughter. He’s rocking on his heels. It’s almost carefree. You chest tightens and you fight the urge to cry. Was he laughing because he didn’t care?<br/>“Oh that’s RICH!” He’s actually gasping a bit. <br/>Your body jerks as he freezes. He’s composing himself. But the cessation of movement is so sudden. His body visibly relaxes as he crosses his arms and smirks down at you.<br/>“As if you would desire anyone else.”<br/>You flush. That self centered egotistical……….<br/>“Come to me.” The command is sudden and you’re almost angry at yourself for your body’s own instant compliance. You stand, almost too quickly. You’re dizzy. Or maybe it’s because you’re nervous.<br/>You walk to him. <br/>Every time it’s the same. Every single time. It’s like your body is programmed to ignite a fire deep down in your core every time you are close to his physical person. All retorts and quips are forgotten when you’re this close to him. All fear too. At least of anything or anyone else OTHER than him. It’s just you. And him. And that fire. At least to you. <br/>You would’ve simply continued to stare at his feet. You’re just too nervous to look at him. But he’s having none of that. You feel his finger hook under your chin as he pulls your face up to meet his eyes.<br/>His face is expressionless again. His pupils leaping about, taking in every detail of your face. Piercing. But, then again, his gaze is always piercing. You’re held like this for some time. Long enough to where you begin to feel a little more calm. <br/>“Are you afraid of me?” His question is curious. <br/>You take a moment to think on it. Your eyes flutter to his lips. They’re smooth and unmarred by any expression or blemish.<br/>“No. No I’m not.”<br/>That familiar smirk. “That’s stupid. But not unreasonable. I have been giving you a lot of free reign, after all.”<br/>“You really knew already?”<br/>He scoffs. “Of course I knew. Probably before you yourself knew. Now…. Hold still.”<br/>He releases your chin and you watch as he lowers himself before you. It’s a brand new feeling. Standing before him as he drops to one knee. His eyes haven’t left yours. And he’s every bit as intimidating, even at this angle. <br/>“Remove your shirt.” His voice is now deadly calm. <br/>You feel a clenching of fear. But you comply as you lift and shrug out of the garment, instantly regretting your tendency to not wear a bra when not at home. <br/>His gaze drops to your belly, then. You watch as he raises his large hands to cup your baby bump. One on each side, his long fingers splayed nearly up to your ribcage. You steal a rare moment to appreciate how pretty the dark gem is, nestled between the crests atop his head. <br/>You lose track of time for awhile. He’s just cupping your belly and staring at it intensely. Every so often he shifts his hands and presses and nudges your belly with his fingertips.<br/>“144.”<br/>His sudden speech startles you. <br/>“O…. Okay?”<br/>“It’s heart rate.” His voice is quiet. You feel butterflies twirling in your stomach as you realize what he’s doing.<br/>“Can you tell….”<br/>“Don’t be an imbecile. I’m perfect. Not psychic.” Still quiet.<br/>You cant even begin to be mad. His face shifts upwards to return his gaze to yours.<br/>“Are you well?” His face creases in confusion and you realize you have the biggest most idiotic smile on your face. <br/>“I love you, Cell.”<br/>“I know.” Back to that smirk. He stands again. “Now, is there any other form of comfort you require? Some other assurance that I’m not upset with you, perhaps? Other than my current exemplary behavior? My understanding is that human females require added emotional support due to hormonal changes at this time. Don’t get used to this.”<br/>“Fuck me, maybe?”<br/>His answering smile is a wicked one. “If you think this pathetic structure you call a home can withstand that…. Then I’m happy to oblige.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>